


tell me how i can get to where you are

by thanatopis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Hanzo, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest, yep bitch you read that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>I have to stop this, Hanzo thinks. I will never stop this, Hanzo concludes.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	tell me how i can get to where you are

There is an unease in Hanzo that he cannot quite accurately place.

It is a feeling that annoyingly burrows itself in the back of his mind, a constant reminder that has Hanzo feeling particularly irritated at the most inconsequential of things, like the sun being too bright when he steps outside for the day.

Hanzo has scared away most of the tight-lipped staff who clean his quarters, he’s intentionally brutalized his fellow brethren during kendo practice with the blunt edge of his wooden sword, and he cannot even meditate in the most peaceful of secluded places, giving into resignation and frustration more times than not.

The nagging, anxious feeling shoves itself to the forefront of his mind as Hanzo sits down for dinner with both his father and Genji. It is routine as much as it is ritual; the Shimada head making it a requirement to sit down and eat a meal with his two sons each time the evening rolls around. Hanzo doesn’t mind it, not usually if Genji isn’t being too obnoxious with stories of his partying adventures and the dumb things he gets his friends do if Genji even so much as asks.

The benefits of being wealthy and having an influential family, Hanzo supposes.

Father chuckles with genuine amusement as Genji’s voice crests, recounting one of his more outlandish tales while Hanzo remains stonily silent and disapproving beside him.

Hanzo believes Genji’s behavior is highly unbecoming of someone of the Shimada clan—let alone the _second_ son. Hanzo is not envious of Genji’s lack of responsibilities in correlation to the clan. He has been training since he could crawl—all for his father’s throne— _his_ by birthright. Hanzo will take everything thrown at him head on with the upmost gratitude because it makes him _better_.

Hanzo can’t wrap his mind around why his father grants Genji such leniency, why he laughs and humors Genji’s asinine jokes and stories, why he finds it any kind of expectable that his youngest shows up thirty minutes late to an important meeting, smelling like a mix of alcohol and cheap cologne and perfume after a night out partying. If Hanzo ponders the thoughts any longer he’ll anger himself, so exhales slowly, pushing the troubling thoughts out through his nose like it’s a physical thing, like smoke, expelling the poison.

He feels marginally calmer.

The table lapses into comfortable silence as Genji finishes his story. Hanzo’s shoulders relax a bit at the more than welcomed stillness. Slurping and chewing noises serving as a kind of white noise to his meal and it is a preferable alternative to hearing Genji shame the name of their clan.

His shackles rise just a hare when his father clears his throat, purposeful and deliberate. The sound speaks of business. The domesticity their father wears is put away like a summer robe in that small instant.

Hanzo’s eyes rise, chop sticks slowly lowering from his parted mouth. He puts the clump of rice back into the bowl, setting the utensils down parallel from himself, waiting. Hanzo sees Genji do the same from his peripheral vision, eyes curious and expectant.

Their father intertwines his fingers on the table top, digits long and slender, regarding his two boys with an expression that he reserves for his second in commands—for the people who reside _below_ him. Hanzo is more comfortable with this kind of treatment from his father than any other. It’s easier to process, easier to deal with than the known reality that Hanzo is not, and will never be his father’s favorite son.

“As you both know, the Takeda group has just recently decided to merge their organization with the Shimada clan after many long years of aggression and bloodshed,” his father begins. “Keishin Takeda is a stubborn and arrogant man, but men can be controlled through various means. However, it is Keishin’s son-in-law—the _heir_ —that I have my doubts about.”

The Shimada head takes a measured breath, in through his nose and out from his mouth. His expression is both thoughtful and calculative, a fascinating contrast to the open and friendly man he was as their father when he and Genji were but boys.

“Ichirou Akiyama is the next in line to Keishin’s small kingdom, and I am not surprising anyone here when I say Keishin won’t last very long.” Whether or not it was from Keishin’s own happenstance, or from another outside influence, his father does not specify, but the implication is obviously clear.

“In short words boys, I need something on Ichirou that I can use for when he starts dreaming delusions that he can overthrow the Shimada clan and claim this empire as his own. He is _that_ much of a fool.”

Genji snorts, loud and mocking, like even thinking of such an idea is absolutely mental and preposterous. He is too sure about his position Hanzo thinks; too sure about how safe he actually is in these shark infested waters where a drop of blood would have the rest in a frenzy.

Hanzo doesn’t laugh, but his father’s eyes find his brother’s, their dark brown depths fond and bemused like he is also in on the outlandishness of the joke as well. Hanzo resists the urge to grind his teeth into dust.

Genji is a fool if he thinks that just because he resides at the top of the pyramid does not mean that the thousands of others holding him up from the bottom wouldn’t drop him as soon as an opportunity presented itself in exchange for more power.

His father’s eyes turn onto Hanzo next as he continues.

“I’ll be damned if I allow some _boy_ the means to stab me in the back willingly, so I want you and your brother to do something for me, Hanzo.”

Hanzo tries not to appear surprised.

It is one thing to ask them separately, but _together_ …now that is new. Hanzo arches a skeptical brow, lips parting, ready to ask why before his father immediately dashes his question away with an amused grin and a quirk of his salt and peppered brow as he takes a sip from his sake cup.

“Such little faith from my eldest,” His father jokes with a husky laugh. Hanzo instantly shuts his mouth, lips dipping in a frown, feeling like he’s being made fun of.

“You and Genji work well together when you _want_ too, Hanzo. Trust and rely on your brother more because when I am gone, he will be all you have.”

His father’s eyes linger on his for a moment too long, making Hanzo’s heart race because of what he thinks he sees in those depths: acknowledgement of a secret guarded with barbwire and jagged knifes—his _shame_.

Hanzo’s proximity to Genji suddenly feels too close then, too telling, as his brother shifts completely unaware right next to him, comfortable and relaxed, speaking of an ease that’s far too intimate. Hanzo quickly breaks eye contact with his father like he was burned, quietly clearing his throat and easing the sudden dryness with sake. Somehow, that only makes it worse.

“What do you need us to do, father?” Genji asks eagerly, completely ignorant of what just transpired in nothing but a second of a look shared.

Hanzo wants to hit him, wants to deny without knowing how, wants to leave the room immediately, but he doesn’t do any of these things. He hushes his mind instead, putting to rest his over active thoughts and regulates his breathing to a steady, lulling tempo.

His father watches him for a moment more, expression undecipherable before his eyes flicker to Genji again, changing completely like a chameleon.

“I need you to display your charm, Genji.” The Shimada head says. “Entice him, allure him, whatever you must do so that he’s practically tripping all over himself for the chance to speak with you.” Genji doesn’t even blink at what most would’ve considered an inappropriate proposition—a father easily whoring off his own son for his benefit—but Genji looks excited and pleased by the prospect.

Hanzo, however, feels dread well up in his being like bile rising in his throat.

“And my part?” Hanzo asks, highly apprehensive.

“Not much Hanzo, do not fret,” his father chuckles. “I just need you to catch him in a compromising position—and it must be _you_ specifically because this is a man you will deal with in access when you assume power after me. You see, Ichirou _married_ into power, what better way than _this_ to make sure he keeps it?”

His father barks a sharp laugh, eyes shining with something callous and cruel as he pours himself another shot of sake, humming in utter content as he takes a sip.

“You will hold a teetering axe over his head _constantly_ Hanzo. He will be nothing more than a mere puppet under your control.”

The room is silent, both brothers utterly still in their astonishment over how brutal their father can be despite his outward caring appearance that he likes to display for the world.

Genji breaks that silence with a low whistle. It echoes loudly in the spacious room.

“Absolutely _savage_ ,” Genji murmurs, sounding highly impressed. “We won’t let you down.”

Their father bids them farewell soon after. He leaves the table with a lighthearted joke about his bad back and needing at least nine hours of sleep to face his many duties in the morning. Hanzo and Genji wish him well and a good night, finishing the rest of their remaining meal in companionable silence.

The atmosphere changes subtly when their father slides the door shut, his footsteps sounding farther and farther away with each shuffle against the tatami mats. Genji eases closer, just enough to be overwhelmed by his outrageously expensive cologne and feel a hint of his body heat radiate through Hanzo’s clothes.

His eyes fall shut as Genji’s hand slides into lap, resting high on his thigh and squeezing in a cajoling manner. It’s been days since they’ve touched each other, a fact Hanzo is all too aware of with Genji so temptingly close. Hanzo’s breath comes out shaky through his nose. An image of his father—his too keen eyes staring into what seemed like Hanzo’s very soul, shedding light on all his deepest, darkest secrets just minutes ago won’t leave him.

 _He knows, he knows_ , repeats over and over in Hanzo’s head in a frantic mantra.

The all-encompassing shame and guilt Hanzo suddenly feels pierce through him like the very arrows he often practices with down on the archery field, plunging deep and true. What father must think of them, but Hanzo in particular. He is the eldest, the one who is supposed to be responsible and make rational decisions—the only thing his father probably values of him and Hanzo has gone and ruined it.

“What’s wrong anija?”

Genji, with his soft, concerned tones doesn’t make the reality of their situation any better. The intention of his hand on Hanzo’s thigh has ceased its teasing nature, placed there more for comfort and concern than anything else, and Hanzo feels something vile and ugly rise in his being, unable to stop it. He throws Genji’s hand away from his person like the kind gesture and the man attached to it disgusts him.

Hanzo doesn’t look to see if Genji’s expression is confused, hurt, or angry as he quickly rises from the table, food forgotten. He needs to be alone, needs to hit something or train until his mind goes numb from exhaustion, he needs—

He does not expect the hand that snags onto his robes, bringing him back down with a tug that surprises Hanzo with its sheer power and strength. Hanzo forgets sometimes just how strong Genji is, how Hanzo often underestimates him because of his frivolous hobbies and careless concerns.

“You _do not_ run away from me—not like that—not when you’re obviously upset with me.” Genji says, his voice commanding in way that makes Hanzo pause for the strangeness of it. Genji’s perfectly arched brows are furrowed, mouth pinched downwards in a frown, and Hanzo can’t take his eyes off him despite his better judgements.

He is beautiful and desirable in every way that hurts, and Hanzo cannot decide whether or not he hates or loves Genji more in this moment.

Hanzo is reminded yet again from Genji’s close proximity how long it has been since he’s tasted those lips, since he’s allowed himself to indulge in the soft sounds Genji ushers when Hanzo kisses him breathless, eating his pleasurable little gasps with a greedy mouth, feeling them tingle on his tongue.

Hanzo swallows, unable to stop himself from reminiscing on a particular memory and feels his body flush with unwanted heat. He tries to shake and jerk himself from Genji’s iron grip, not appreciating being handled like some low common thug, especially by Genji.

“I will do whatever the hell I damn well please, _little brother_. Now let go of me.” Hanzo growls, baring his teeth.

Genji remains calm and passive in the face of Hanzo’s anger unlike all the others who shrink and balk. It only serves to enrage Hanzo further. He feels like the butt of someone’s joke—that he’s not being taken seriously—and Hanzo refuses to feel like a fool.

He doesn’t mean to do it, but sometimes Hanzo’s anger gets the best of him. Hanzo doesn’t hesitate when his hand shoots out, snaring Genji by the wrist as the pads of his fingers dig punishingly into soft pressure points. Genji hisses, instantly releasing his hold on Hanzo’s robes but Hanzo does not release him, does not give him that privilege.

Hanzo watches as Genji’s face twists up, as if his brain cannot decide between rage or heartbreak. Hanzo fastens his grip tighter, involuntarily tugging Genji closer as he feels the delicate bones of Genji’s wrist shift under his skin. The knowledge that Hanzo could easy snap his wrist if he wanted too is clear through the look that is shared between the both of them.

 _I give you this mercy_ , Hanzo’s cold, dark eyes seem to say. _Do not push what I am willing to put up with Genji._

Genji scoffs, the sound sardonic and malign. His eyes take on a malicious cast, regarding Hanzo as if he is no better than scum stuck onto the bottom of his shoe.

“Is this about father’s job for us?" Genji begins, eyes narrowing. “Are you so blind as to where my affections truly lie that you would let jealously cloud your rationality?”

Hanzo almost laughs because he is _not_ jealous of this Ichirou Akiyama that Genji will soon be having relations with. Genji has always been _his_ —no amount of his partying or the various men and woman he spends his free time with will ever change that. That much, he is absolutely certain.

Hanzo gives Genji a bland, dry look, releasing his wrist with a with a bemused, mocking snort. He sadistically delights in Genji’s astounded expression, like his brother hadn’t been expecting such a response.

“Affections? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Genji appears thrown for a moment, unsure as his lips part, surprised at Hanzo’s changing mood. He huffs in aspiration, brow rising skeptically as he says, “You’re making smart ass jokes now, after practically threatening to crush my wrist?”

Hanzo shrugs, glancing away towards the sliding door.

He’s growing increasingly tired of this.

“I just find it funny, the word choice you would use to describe…” Hanzo trails off awkwardly, not having any words for what they’ve just recently become to each other. It’s still hard to voice it sometimes. The feeling that the walls are listening in at every chance is a constant paranoia Hanzo has.

“Never mind. I’m going to bathe—you’re not welcome.” Hanzo clarifies sharply. He says it even though they haven’t bathed together since they were young boys. The temptation is too strong now. Hanzo wouldn’t be able to pretend that Genji’s wet, bare body doesn’t affect him in the carnal ways that it does, so it’s best not to tempt fate where it has granted them more than enough chances.

Genji rolls his eyes, mildly offended. He’s leaning his elbow on the table top, the palm of his hand cradling the defined jut of his jaw and Hanzo’s eyes flicker down to it almost involuntarily. He vaguely wonders if his bite mark is still etched in Genji’s skin along that very line, mottled in dark reds and purples. He can’t know because Genji wears make up to cover the evidence, both a blessing and a curse.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Genji says.

Hanzo gives him a flat knowing look, unconvinced. “Hm.”

If Hanzo allowed it, Genji would have no hang ups over doing _anything_ with Hanzo anywhere, so he has to be careful for both of them. Or at least _try_ too. Some days it takes everything in him to keep a certain amount of control, to not allow his baser instincts to outweigh or influence his logical mind.

Genji blinks at him, lips parting, “You’re really not going to tell me?”

Hanzo gives Genji one last look before he exits the room.

“No.”

* * *

 

A disturbance in his bed during the middle of the night has become so familiar and routine that Hanzo worries for the day that it will _not_ be Genji, but an intruder sent to kill him.

It’s dark so Hanzo can only really see the outline of Genji’s body when he groggily blinks awake. Hanzo can see him stripping out of his clothes until Genji’s just clad in a pair of boxer briefs, not caring where the rest of his clothes end up or how they will be utterly wrinkled by tomorrow morning.

Hanzo easily makes room for him. His bed is big enough to fit four people if he truly wanted too. He flips the thin sheet over that he sleeps with during the summer months, heart picking up speed as Genji climbs into his bed yet again.

 _I have to stop this_ , Hanzo thinks. _I will never stop this_ , Hanzo concludes.

Genji is all breathy, giddy laughter as he slinks up to Hanzo’s body. Hanzo realizes he’s also smiling when their lips meet after what feels like months even though he knows it’s only been days. The kiss is soft and indulgent, lips caressing over each other’s in feather-like movements that has Hanzo shivering at the raw sensuality of it all.

Gradually, their kissing grows more rushed and passionate. It escalates when Hanzo can’t resist the urge to peak his tongue out, sliding it along Genji’s lower lip before sucking it into his mouth and dragging the blunt of his teeth along the fleshy interior. He grins into it when he feels more than hears Genji’s breath stutter inside his chest, groaning low and needy thereafter.

The sound does predicable things to Hanzo’s body, which is completely naked under the thin sheet and does absolutely no favors for shielding his increasingly hardening cock.

Genji eagerly shifts to lay partially on top of Hanzo, leg thrown in-between his own, or at least Genji tries too before he realizes the sheet is too much in the way. He hurriedly pushes it down to Hanzo’s thighs, making Hanzo hiss at the friction and gripping at the back of Genji’s neck for support.

His cock rests on his thigh, thickening by the second as Genji licks a broad, filthy stripe along the palm of his hand and circles Hanzo’s cock with a loose yet firm grip, steadily stroking him into a frenzy. Hanzo repeatedly releases and clenches his hold on the back of Genji’s neck, moving his hips in miniscule little motions as Genji works him over, massaging at the sensitive frenulum and dragging the pad of his thumb back and forth along the slit.

Hanzo lifts his head despite the stress on his neck. He watches with his lids lowered as Genji’s hand skillfully moves over him, the wet squelching noises picking up in volume as the head of Hanzo’s cock begins to weep.

The sound of Genji’s utterly satisfied hum near Hanzo’s ear makes him bite his lip into his mouth when Genji’s fingers dip south and fondle his balls. They rest in Genji’s hand, heavy and full as he lightly squeezes and rolls them, making Hanzo’s legs spread wider.

“That feel good, anija?” Genji asks, low and sultry. His lips are wet as they brush against Hanzo’s ear, inspiring tingles to run along the entirety of his back. Genji already knows the answer to his question; Hanzo’s won’t humor him any further.

Hanzo curses, throwing his head back with a groan when Genji’s fingers rub up against his perineum, putting pressure into the pads as he presses against Hanzo’s prostate from the outside, twisting his fingers in a corkscrew motion that has pure sensation running hot along his spine.

Hanzo makes a sound akin to dying, his cock visibly jolting and looking painfully red at the tip.

Genji just chuckles.

Bastard.

 _Just wait until it’s your turn_ , Hanzo thinks, his thoughts just a touch more dazed and cloudy with pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful— _god_ , Hanzo…you don’t even know half of what you do to me.” Genji breathes roughly, taking the lobe of Hanzo’s ear into his mouth, alternating between sucking and biting. Hanzo huffs hotly, gathering his hair and pushing it towards the side with an impatient shove so it’s out of the way for Genji’s mouth to roam.

“S-shut up,” Hanzo stutters. He wonders how many of Genji’s playmates could recite that same line back to him, maybe not word for word but close enough. Genji is known for how sweet his mouth is, in more ways than one.

“It’s still true,” Genji says smugly. He nips at the underside of Hanzo’s jaw, before sucking a mark onto his skin. “Everything about you makes my dick hard. From your brooding smolders, to the broadness of your shoulders, to how you hold your bow, ready to sink deep into your target.” The innuendo of Genji’s clever wording is not lost on Hanzo.

“Your face becomes so serene in that moment. You look so at peace with yourself that I get mad any time someone tries to disturb you.”

“ _God_ —shut up,” Hanzo hisses, bending his knees and digging his heels into the bed as Genji presses against a spot even harder. His chest heaves, lungs on fire.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think I will.” Genji concludes, infuriatingly cool and confident. “I want to talk about anija more—about my favorite parts of your body…like your arms and chest, the hair that runs down your abdomen, your cock…” Genji pauses there intentionally. His hand suddenly disappears from Hanzo’s body, and Hanzo holds his breath in anticipation, head thrown back, eyes closed.

Hanzo gasps when Genji’s hand circles him again, only this time his cock is standing straight up at an acute angle, dripping droplets of pre-come onto his stomach like translucent pearls. Genji is unyielding around his rigid length. His fist twists expertly around the cock head, making Hanzo bite down on a shout as his nails dig into the back of Genji’s neck, scrapping down.

Genji licks over his lips, then grins a devilishly charming smile.

“Yeah, I fucking _love_ this,” Genji breathes. “I love jerking it, love putting my mouth on it…” Genji trails off, sounding winded as if he’s the one getting his dick pumped. Hanzo’s toes curl, so close to coming until Genji removes his hand and continues on with his perverse list. Hanzo growls in frustration, slamming his other fist down into the bed, wanting nothing more than to come already, but Genji has other ideas it seems.

“I like these,” Genji murmurs silkily. He gropes Hanzo’s balls again, tugging on them for good measure and chuckles when Hanzo gasps. “Nice and heavy…full of come...”

Hanzo groans, arching into the touch. It sounds of desperation and urgency, filling all the empty corners and spaces of Hanzo’s room.

“And of course, your ass…” Genji’s hand drifts down further, circling Hanzo’s hole with an uncharacteristic kind of hesitancy that tells Hanzo what Genji is specifically asking permission for. His whole body involuntarily tenses, blinking his eyes wide open to rest them on Genji’s face, who is looking at him both shy and hopeful.

They’ve… _dabbled_ a bit in this area, usually when Genji sucks Hanzo’s dick and adds an accompanying finger or two, but Hanzo has never allowed anyone the right—never had a desire to—until now. Hanzo dissects every inch of Genji’s face, wondering what this means to him and slowly nods his head. Genji’s nostrils flare as he takes a sharp breath, like he believed Hanzo would’ve denied him this kind of surrender no matter what situation.

Genji kisses Hanzo, bruising his mouth with how quick he rushes in. Their tongues meet and stroke over one another until it’s barely kissing and more just sharing breath. Genji departs with one last lingering kiss to Hanzo’s upper lip before he’s tearing away, going through Hanzo’s bedside table looking for the bottle of lube just newly bought.

He’s still wearing those boxer briefs which is a shame, Hanzo thinks. He lunges over and pulls at the waistband of Genji’s briefs, tugging the pesky fabric down until it’s around Genji’s knees. Hanzo’s rough treatment almost makes Genji unbalance and fall off the bed several times. Genji blindly bats Hanzo’s hand away, ass in the air.

“Hanzo just— _brother_ , give me— _ahhh_ —”

Hanzo makes a pleased sound when he starts palming Genji’s cock and balls feverishly, moving his hand in practiced motions, liking how quick moisture gathers on his hand.

“Don’t—don’t do that, _god_ —” Genji pleads, whining high in his throat.

“Why? You’ve always been such a slut for this…” Hanzo muses.

Hanzo can see him gripping that bottle of lube like a life support as he thumbs at his hole. Hanzo starts reconsidering letting Genji fuck him, especially when his little brother looks and sounds as he does, but Genji stops him.

“I want to fuck you—I want to fuck you so bad—and I can’t do that if you make me come,” Genji grits out. “Hanzo, _please_.”

Hanzo is weak for Genji begging in any kind of circumstance, so he pulls back and settles back in the middle of the bed waiting for Genji to slink out of his boxer briefs and hurriedly come back to Hanzo’s side.

Genji returns to him like being away from Hanzo physically hurts him. He prompts Hanzo to lie on his side, hand on his hip, caressing down his thigh in soothing motions. Hanzo swings his hair over his shoulder, brushing it to the side so he can feel Genji’s breath on the sensitive skin of his nape. Hanzo feels secure like this with Genji’s warmth bleeding into his body, with Genji protecting the most vulnerable point on his body—his back.

Hanzo relaxes with each breath he takes as Genji’s hands run all over his body, lulling him into an aroused trance that has his eye lids feeling heavy.

“I’m gonna make it so good,” Genji whispers against Hanzo’s ear, making him shiver.

Hanzo can only nod his head, his words having mysteriously vanished off his tongue. He hears the cap of the bottle pop open and refuses to tense his body, lifting his leg wide and open instead, and meeting the challenge head on while waiting for the press of Genji’s fingers.

Hanzo exhales slowly, gradually leaning his weight back into Genji’s body when he starts circling the tight flare of his hole, applying pressure when he’s spread the lube thoroughly enough to start dipping in. It’s nothing unfamiliar, not truly; discomforting in a sense because Hanzo has no other outlet of sensation dulling the unpleasant feeling of Genji tearing him up. He reassesses his decision before Genji presses and drags against a spot inside of himself that has Hanzo moaning, surprised, thighs quaking like leaves rustling in the wind.

“Mmm,” Genji hums, kissing sloppily at Hanzo’s neck. Hanzo can feel Genji’s smile like a brand on his skin. “That felt good?”

Hanzo makes an impatient sound that’s supposed to signify as a _yes_ and _keep going_. Genji does, enthusiastically, making Hanzo writhe and ache and lose his breath more than just a few times as Genji delicately adds more of his fingers. Hanzo’s panting loudly by the time Genji works in three, noticeably rocking back on them and feeling like he shouldn’t be enjoying such a thing as much as he is.

But he is.

Genji keeps his promise about making it good. He has practice at this, that much is obvious as he experimentally angles or crooks his fingers dragging over a spot that makes the base of Hanzo’s spine flush white hot until he’s gasping, grinding out curses between his clenched teeth as Genji laughs and hits that spot over and over again.

“If you’re going to do something, _do it_ already,” Hanzo grunts. He won’t directly ask for what he wants because he’s too prideful, and Genji doesn’t expect him too. Genji carefully pulls out his fingers, wiping them onto Hanzo’s sheets which he will ignore for the moment, and kisses softly at Hanzo’s jaw, adoring and fond.

“Any preferences?” Genji asks, hands soothing up and down Hanzo’s sides. Hanzo can feel him, hard and wet, against his hip and bites down onto his bottom lip. He just barely resists the urge to reach down and start stroking him.

Hanzo snorts dryly, shooting a bland look over his shoulder that is betrayed by the flush rising high on his cheeks.

“This is fine,” Hanzo says, short and to the point, quickly turning his head back around to avoid seeing that tooth rotting satisfaction transform Genji’s face.

Genji laughs, amused and muttering something under his breath that Hanzo doesn’t try to catch. It’s probably non-sense anyways. His heart pounds as he waits with baited breath, hearing Genji behind him squeeze out more lube and the lewd sounds that follow afterwards as he gets himself ready.

The first touch makes Hanzo’s jump, his whole body shaking. Genji’s cock is impossibly hot as he rubs against Hanzo’s hole in enticing circles, painting him over before he starts pushing in.

It’s…it’s so much _bigger_ than a couple of fingers that Hanzo’s body immediately seizes in response to the foreign intrusion, going so tight and rigid that it only seems to hurt more as his body locks up. Hanzo hisses, reaching over and digging his finger nails into the meat of Genji’s ass to help combat the pain.

Genji is instantly at his ear, cooing calm supportive words and telling Hanzo to touch his cock while they get through the hardest part. Hanzo follows Genji’s advice, circling himself and pulling at his cock with slow strokes that ease the discomfort instantaneously. He gradually relaxes back into Genji’s chest, loosening the severe grip he has on Genji’s ass and closes his eyes. Hanzo tilts his head back and just tries to breath while Genji eases the rest of the way in until he’s flush with Hanzo’s ass.

It almost feels like choking with how deep and full Genji is inside of him. Hanzo can only marvel at the feeling as every inch of his body becomes hyper aware, and even then it’s almost too much to process.

“Are you okay, anija?” Genji asks, sounding about as wrecked as Hanzo feels. He hasn’t moved; just continues to caress every part of Hanzo’s body that he can reach, laying indulgent, wet kisses over the tense tendons of his neck. He pays particular attention to Hanzo’s chest, cupping and squeezing at his pectorals and toying with his nipples, which makes Hanzo’s breath come increasingly quick because that area of his body has always been a weakness that Genji loves to exploit.

Hanzo waits moments before answering Genji, getting used to all the feelings overwhelming him. He speaks with his body, hesitantly pushing his hips back in half thwarted motions, exhaling hard through his nose because he’s already so deep inside of him without adding pressure to it. Genji’s breath leaves him shaky, rushing out over the skin of Hanzo’s nape in a warm gush that has his lashes fluttering, trying to keep his eyes open.

Genji curses softly, bending one of his knees and anchoring it flat on the bed for leverage as he pulls apart Hanzo’s thighs and lifts his leg high enough where his foot dangles in the air. Genji’s hand grips the fleshy area of his thigh, angling it where he desires it, and begins moving.

The first firm roll of Genji’s hips elicits shaky gasps from both of them as Genji purposely pulls out just enough so only the head of his cock remains inside of Hanzo, before he plunges back in. Hanzo presses his lips together as Genji whines softly, burying his head into the crook of Hanzo’s neck, and whispering awed words of astonishment at how good Hanzo feels around him.

Hanzo hums quietly, snaking his hand behind him and embedding his fingers into the thick of Genji’s hair, anchoring him to the spot. Their eyes meet and before Hanzo knows it, they’re kissing. Genji’s tongue flicks over his lips, teasing and sensual, and Hanzo sucks on his bottom lip, watching Genji with lowered lids as his mouth falls open in pleasure.

After taking a deep breath, Genji rocks his hips, feeling for any tension, any resistance, and luckily everything he’s done to soothe Hanzo has worked perfectly. Hanzo gasps, going boneless in Genji’s grip as he grazes just briefly over his sweet spot. Genji chuckles, delighted as he licks and bites along the shell of Hanzo’s ear.

“Mm, does that feel good anija?” Genji asks, nudging his nose against sweat-damp skin. He kisses at the back of Hanzo’s ear, slow and attentive, thrilled by how Hanzo ruts back into him, low groan leaving his lips.

Hanzo murmurs his name, a command and plea both. Genji does not deny him— _cannot_ deny him.

Genji eagerly begins moving his hips, gradual at first, spurred on by the encouraging sounds Hanzo makes every time he pushes in, hitting over that spot. He licks stripes along Hanzo’s neck, resisting the urge to just bite into that tawny, beige skin and leave his mark, but Hanzo would no doubt skewer him with a stick. Genji settles for the next best thing and drags his teeth in blunt lines, making Hanzo _writhe_ into him.

He gives a low, rough groan, shifting Hanzo against him, before he starts sliding in harder, pulling out farther, and the sound of skin slapping against each other grows in volume along with those spine melting sounds Hanzo ushers into the charged air.

Genji fucks into Hanzo harder, putting a little more roughness into his thrusts as he abandons his hold on Hanzo’s thigh, wrapping his arm possessively around his chest. Hanzo’s leg stays in the air, trembling as he rests the ball of his arched foot on Genji’s leg, trying his best to balance it despite each thrust that jars him.

Hanzo’s panting, writhing against Genji as the hand in his hair _pulls_ , begging without voicing that he wants it harder, faster, that he wants Genji to make him come like this. Genji groans, a fire spreading all throughout his body, refining his aim so that he’s dragging over Hanzo’s sweet spot constantly, wanting to drive him higher and higher into bliss.

They fuck like it’s the only thing they’ve ever known how to do. Hanzo _growls_ when Genji slams into him over and over again, nails digging oh so deliciously into his scalp, looking back at him with a defiant expression on his face as if _daring_ Genji to make him come. Genji’s cock jerks at that look, groaning deep in his throat as he watches Hanzo’s head tilt back, lips parting on desperate little whines as the long, elegant curtain of his hair bounces slightly with each slam of Genji’s hips.

Hanzo gasps in a way Genji’s never heard before when he circles his cock and starts fisting it vigorously, needing Hanzo to come first—needing to feel him lose it to this. The bed creaks with their frantic movements as Genji works double time, a thin sheen of sweat adding to the friction, building the heat between them until the whole room begins to feel like a sauna.

Genji knows when Hanzo’s coming; his face sweaty and dark red, mouth falling open as he chokes on a hoarse shout. His whole body shakes uncontrollably, bucking against Genji, hips rotating in fevered circles as he drenches Genji’s fist, coming in spurts that arch high as Genji continues to fuck him through his orgasm.

Genji chants Hanzo’s name, the desperation in the sound grows in volume until it peaks and snaps, hitting its inevitable crescendo with a wail. Genji squeezes his eyes shut as Hanzo inner most muscles spasm around him, enclosing so snug and impossibly tight that Genji’s coming, utterly wrecked and sobbing with how good it feels. He doesn’t stop pumping his hips, letting Hanzo milk him drop for drop until there’s nothing else he can give. Hanzo’s grits his teeth, clawing at Genji’s thigh because he’s so sensitive to every jostling movement.

Genji finishes with one last grinding thrust, grunting long and low until it fizzles out into a tortured sounding groan. He falls back onto the bed with bones that feel more like noodles than anything else, but still manages to carefully pull out of Hanzo’s body so that he can rest in a more comfortable position as well. Hanzo grouses as he flips onto his stomach, raking the heavy cascade of damp hair out of his face with a lazy push as he watches Genji, quiet and observing.

Genji flashes a quick look out of the corner of his eye, snorting when he sees Hanzo flushed face, panting just as hard as he is.

“What?” Genji asks, bemused.

“It felt that good?” Hanzo inquires, like he doesn’t already know the answer to his insane question.

Genji blinks, eyes wide as he gives a short laugh. “Uh, yeah? Did me flooding your ass not make that perfectly clear?”

Genji chuckles when Hanzo’s lips dip in distaste at the crude wording, but otherwise, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he just seems incredibly… _curious_.

“Get some rest little brother,” Hanzo begins, sending a shiver down Genji’s spine at how his tone deepens. “When you wake up next, it’ll be _me_ who’s making the flood.”


End file.
